Her First Madam
by Polgaria
Summary: Mary Briston is in her seventh year at Hogwarts, months from graduation and her entrance to the 'real' world of wizarding when a certain truth about the tawnyeyed flying instructor makes her realize that the real world might be closer than she thinks.


Professor Sinistra's eyes rolled like agate marbles under kohl-lined lids. "You expect me to believe that you actually _thought_ that this star chart was accurate? I know that you're not the brightest of my students Miss Briston, but even you're not dull enough to think I'd believe you. Obviously, you've gone and copied someone else's work- a first year's from the ineptitude displayed on the parchment you handed me. You're to do this work again, and not return to my classroom until you've finished."

I almost told her to shove it- I was about a half-second away when I suddenly managed to stop myself. "Right," I said scathingly as I grabbed my rejected work and exited the tower. It was just like that bad Sinistra to make me feel badly about myself when I'd actually _tried_ on an assignment. So I was shit at Astronomy- that was just too bad for me, wasn't it?

Instead of going up to my common room or to the library to do my work like a good little peon, I took the stairs to the top of the tower to sulk. Huffing from the climb that I'd taken too quickly, I reached the pinnacle and kicked one of the turrets with my trainer.

"Fuck." It was easier to be in a rage than to admit that perhaps my feelings were a little hurt by Sinistra's attack on my intelligence. I kicked another turret. "Shit."

A string or two of expletives later, my toes were numb and I plopped dejectedly between two of the turrets, dangling my legs out over the edge. I looked at the chart, which flashed at me with it's magicked corrections. I crumpled it quickly into a ball and lobbed the parchment into the air and over the grounds of Hogwarts.

And then I was on my bum with my legs caught around a turret and my head pounding from its recent conversation with the stone. "What the bloody hell-" I said as I leapt up and peered down at the grounds. A black shape rippled through the air, just asking to splatter itself into the ground by the way it was plummeting towards the earth when suddenly it pulled up and veered back towards me through the dusky light that remained before night set in.

"Crud," I squeaked as I ducked behind the wall. If I had my damn glasses on, I might've realised that the unidentified flying object was not only a person, but a professor. Oh well. Now I'd just be caught skipping out on classes and get sent to the head of house. Wahoo.

"You dropped this, Miss Briston," said an amused voice from behind me.

I turned around. Madam Hooch sat hovering in the air with a smirk on her catty face and my crinkled ball of failure in her hand. I smiled, embarrassed and relieved. Madam Hooch was one of the teachers I actually liked. "I didn't drop it, actually," I confessed, running my hands through my short hair.

"I know," cackled the flying teacher lightly. "Was there any particular reason that you threw it, or were you just working your arm?"

I raised an eyebrow. Clearly, this inquiry was some sort of trap. All I had to do was mention another teacher's name and I'd be in it deep for badmouthing Sinistra. "It was an assignment that I cacked up- I have to do it over."

Madam Hooch nodded an landed on the tower beside me. "May I ask what subject?"

I stood up and reclaimed my work from her offered hand. "Astronomy. I'm absolute crap at it. Apparently," I continued, laughing cynically, "it was so bad that Professor Sinistra said it looked as though a first year had done it."

"That was rather harsh of her," commented Hooch.

I looked over into yellow eyes to find sincerity. "Uh- I guess," I stammered. "But I deserved it. Like I said, I'm rubbish at Astronomy. Seventh year, and I can't even produce a simple chart of the constellation's movement."

Madam Hooch patted me on the shoulder. "There are other ways to get at the stars."

I snorted at this. "Like what?" Madam Hooch smiled and handed me her broom. I shook my head and didn't take it. "That's probably not a good idea."

"Are you 'absolute crap' at flying, too?" inquired the cheeky flight instructor.

I made my most wounded face but my subterfuge was quickly ascertained by Hooch and I had to laugh at the knowing look she gave me. "Actually, I'm not sure." I said honestly. "I haven't been on a broom since first year and-"

"And as I recall," interrupted Hooch, "you weren't terrible. If you're interested in getting back into broom handling, I could give you some help after classes."

That was unexpected. Six years and suddenly Hooch wanted to get my sorry behind back into flying? Fine. She was probably just being nice, knowing that I wouldn't actually take her up on it.

"Trying to convert me, Madam Hooch?" I quipped.

"Not really," she said. "Though I do think that flying would be a good thing to take up again."

"You're bias," I pointed out.

"Perhaps," Hooch conceded as she mounted her broom. "Think about it Miss Briston. You might find the stars a little closer tomorrow." She kicked off powerfully and soared up into the night, and- trite as it may seem- into the stars. I sniffed and took a tissue out of my pocket. The cool air was making my nose run and I decided that I'd better go back to the girl's dormitory of Ravenclaw to get another start on my Astronomy.

"There!" I exclaimed triumphantly as I inked in the last star on my greatly improved chart. If Sinistra had a problem with it she could shove it up her bum. I was not wasting any more time on Astronomy, and that was that.

"Can it, Mary," hissed a disembodied head from behind a bed curtain.

I cringed guiltily. "Sorry," I murmured, clearing up my parchments and quills and climbing under the covers to capture the few precious hours of darkness that remained.

_Think about it_…

And instead of sleeping, I did. In fact, for the next few days, all I could think about was flying. Though the sudden urge to soar left me baffled. I didn't usually have these strange ideas- I didn't even like to fly, as I remembered it. But for whatever deluded reason, I decided that perhaps I should pursue this -uh- flight of fancy.

My chance came on Thursday as my Advanced Potions lab finally ended. I trudged up the stairs from perpetual boredom and ploughed directly into a ref-clad figure who _humphed _in a startled sort of way.

"Sorry Madam Hooch," I groaned as I bent to pick up my books. "I wasn't watching where I was going." Ouch. That was the lamest thing I'd said that week.

"No kidding," Hooch remarked dryly, as she straightened her goggles and unstraightened her pewter hair.

I breathlessly smoothed my robes and smiled nervously. "Actually," I began, "I'm glad I ran into you-" I stopped, and held up my hand as I saw a mischievous smirk twitch at the corner of Hooch's mouth. "Let me guess," I interrupted. "'Literally'?"

"You're no slouch, Miss Briston," complemented the catty woman. "I've got a prediction, as well, actually," she said, her smirk expanding into a grin. I raised my eyebrow. "You are about to ask me for flying lessons, correct?"

"Actually," I sniffled as I felt a warm liquid slosh down my nostril, "I was going to ask you for a tissue- " Apparently, I'd whacked my nose during our collision.

Hooch cackled and dug a tissue out of her robes for my bleeding nose. "I must be a little off my game this morning, Mary. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

I snuffled again, but the bleeding had been sufficiently staunched. "I think I'll live, thanks. However," I continued, and Hooch smiled knowingly, "you were right about the flying lessons. I've been thinking about it for a few days, and I definitely want to learn to fly again. It likely won't improve my Astronomy, but perhaps it will be a good outlet for celestial frustrations. What do you think?"

"I think you've collided with the right woman."

And that was how, that very night, I ended up a mile or two in the air, scared senseless and freezing, with Madam Hooch just behind me barking instructions.

"Lean forward, Mary, or you'll find yourself in the upper stratosphere!"

"Funny," I laughed nervously. "Seriously, though. Why do we have to be up so high?"

"We _could_ go lower if you'd lean forward and bring the broom down like I said."

"Oh," I said as I tried to do what I was told, but only ended by flying higher. "I can't do this!" I shouted over my shoulder, frustration setting in.

Madam Hooch flew up beside me and put a steadying hand on my broom. "Don't panic," warned the woman, "or we _will_ end up in stratosphere."

I gulped audibly and tightened my grip on the broom handle, expecting splinters to lace into my hands under my death grip.

"Now," said Hooch as she let go of my broom, "watch what I do and follow my movements." I squeaked a response and before I knew what was happening, she'd leaned forward into a spiral decent. I cursed and leaned forward hard- too hard.

"Fuck." I felt the air blast out of my lungs as my stomach tried to eject through my throat.

This was bad. This was really, freaking bad. "Help-" I gasped, unable to stop myself plummeting towards the ground. Wind whipped around my ears and created a shrieking voice that deafened me. This was it. This was how I was going to die. Dumbledore would scrape me off of the grounds of Hogwarts and send me to my parents in an envelope with a short note of apology. _Dear parents. Mary suffered an unfortunate flying accident when she tried to learn how to handle a broom. I am sorry she was so inept. Regretfully, Hogwarts Headmaster._

My morbid delusions were rudely interrupted when someone grabbed me from behind and took control of my broom.

"Pull up Briston!" snarled a terrible voice that sounded alarmingly like that of Madam Hooch. I pulled up, and just in time it seemed as the bottoms of my trainers tickled the dewy grass of the quidditch pitch. Slowly, as if through thick water, the broom glided to a stop and I let out the breath I'd been holding in a powerful gust. I jolted when I felt the arms around my waist- I turned around and met amber eyes.

"Madam Hooch- I-"

"Off the broom- now Miss Briston!" She leapt off the broom and landed on the ground. Clumsy from my brush with flatness, I wobbled off of the broomstick and plopped onto the grass. Still trembling, I was not prepared for the tirade Hooch let loose. "What the hell did you think you were doing up there Briston? I thought I told you to lean forward, not take the broom into a death spiral! You could've been grievously injured- and just months away from graduation. Are you completely mad?"

I tried to clamp my tongue firmly between my teeth, but somehow, the muscle wriggled loose and vehement defences spewed forth. "Do you think I meant to do that on purpose?" I shouted. "Believe me- getting scourgified off the pitch is not my idea of a jolly time. Perhaps if you hadn't expected so much of me my first time out in six years, you'd not be disappointed."

Hooch wrinkled her nose and knelt down in front of me. Earnestly, she looked at me with her dragon eyes. "I'm not disappointed," she exhaled shakily. "You gave me a good scare. When I looked behind me only to find you fifty feet below me I wasn't sure I could reach you before you hit the ground. I yelled at you to pull up-

"I didn't hear you," I said guiltily.

"Obviously," Hooch confirmed, a little waspishly, though her features softened afterwards and she said softly, "I think perhaps we'd better finish for tonight."

"Right," I conceded, embarrassed, and proceeded to stand up too quickly. I swayed narcotically until Madam Hooch placed a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

I rolled my eyes self-depreciatingly. "Yeah," I mumbled. "I've stood up too quickly, as usual. Anyway-"

Madam Hooch smiled. "As long as you're not going to pass out on me."

"I'd better go," I said awkwardly, trying to think up some excuse to get the hell out of there. "I have a ton of homework."

Hooch nodded. "Shall we try again on Saturday, then?"

"Are you taking the mickey?" I asked rudely, forgetting myself.

Hooch frowned. "I-" she began, but seemed to think better of it. "My yelling at you, it hasn't put you off flying, has it?" This was unexpected.

"No!" I proclaimed, much too fervently. Calming myself from the unexplained ardour, I tried to explain. "I thought that with me nearly smushing myself in to the pitch, you'd give up on me- and you don't want to risk my getting myself killed under your direction, either."

"That's kind of you, Miss Briston," Hooch said dryly, "but I don't plan on letting you, or any of my other students, get 'smushed,' as you put it. I'll meet you on the pitch Saturday, after the game. I'll need twenty minutes to wash up and change."

"Saturday, then," I grinned gratefully. "Thanks very much."

Saturday- Sunday- Thursday- and many other days in close succession, I had flying lessons. I was learning, slowly adding to my meagre skills. However, as my confidence on the broomstick grew, my confidence in my emotions failed. I admired Madam Hooch profusely- spending time with her was brilliant- but I noticed myself becoming increasingly interested I her. _Interested_. That's rather an elliptical term, and if I was going to be honest - I could say that I was practically stalking the woman. My stomach did an uneasy flop as I admitted this to myself.

I was now a fervent quidditch fan, even if I spent the entire game 'observing' the referee rather than following the players. Transfiguration was brill- when I wasn't gazing out the classroom door to see a three second flash of Madam Hooch as she swept by in her riding cloak on her way to teach a lesson. And of course, casually meandering by the teacher's table during meals was not at all obvious- especially when I made an effort to catch _her_ gaze to be graced with a familiar smile.

But what was the source of this new obsession? Hooch was nice and everything, but for god's sakes- this was insanity.

My unanswered questions were niggling like flies stuck in a fluorescent light fixture, crawling around; buzzing. Someone was just going to have to squash those bugs for me, and that someone happened to be the nearest person in the girl's tower.

"Learning to fly is bloody bazzin'," I blathered on to Tessa Lindsay, who had been listening patiently to my fervent ranting for at least ten minutes. "Madam Hooch is just so amazing and she's bloody ace at flying and-"

"Mary," interrupted Tessa frankly, "she's just a teacher. And the quidditch ref, of course."

I almost launched into Hooch's defence, but thought better. "Yeah," I nodded awkwardly, sensing that I was on the verge of revealing some part of myself that would be attacked. "Yeah, you're right."

"'Course," Tessa smiled, content at having derailed my apparent hero-worship. "I'm going to sleep- quidditch practice early tomorrow, you know."

"Right," I said, uneasily closing my curtains and crawling under the covers.

But she wasn't right- about anything. Madam Hooch wasn't just some lowly, teacher scum. She was wry, an ace flyer, pretty- _wait_- where did that come from? _Pretty?_ Unbeckoned, an image of Xiomara Hooch surfaced in the fluid of my mind. Amber eyes glowed under a curtain of dark lashes, looking down her retrousse nose and over, mirrored by her sketched-on mouth that turned upwards in a cheeky smirk. And under all of those bulky riding things she wore- during our lessons she wore muggle clothing- she was fit…

Holy flaming aardvarks! Did I just- _fit?!_ She couldn't be 'fit'- she was my teacher. _And a woman_, a bothersome little voice added. Fuck- what was I? A lesbian?

Oh my double-god, was I? I considered this possibility with extreme anxiety. Sure I'd never really been interested in boys, but I wasn't really all that old. Lots of girls I knew hadn't had steady boyfriends yet, and I'd always been much more concerned with school. But what about all of this random attachiness to Madam Hooch- my gut filled with writhing snakes and leaden rocks.

"Fucking hell!" I exclaimed, shooting strait up in bed. Cringing, I awaited the annoyed chastisement from around a velvet curtain, but none came. I gulped. It was just possible that I had a crush on Madam Hooch. In fact- it wasn't just possible, it was probable. Yep. There it was, pure and simple. I had the hots for my flying teacher.

Needless to say, though I'll say it anyway, I fobbed off my next lesson with Madam Hooch without telling her. This evasive manoeuvre, however, only granted me a day or two asylum- which I, of course, wasted panicking, kicking myself and generally wishing I were dead. My defection, coupled with my random sprints down the corridors of Hogwarts to avoid running into Hooch kept me relatively safe.

After six days of no Hooch-ish contact I was bold- and stupid- enough to consider myself in the clear. Perhaps she'd given up on me learning to fly; or maybe she was just too busy with the quidditch season nearing an end to care. I'd gotten so comfortable again that I didn't bother to peek around the corner as I turned from the west staircase into the main hallway.

"Miss Briston," exclaimed Hooch pleasantly.

"Hi there," I replied through gritted teeth, feeling my face become a glowing beacon of embarrassment.

"You missed our lesson on Wednesday," Hooch stated mildly. "You might've told me you weren't coming."

"Yes, about that," I began carefully, considering my options. "I would've done, if I hadn't forgotten about the lesson entirely. I- uh- had a lot of work to do," I lied on, "and I just missed flying altogether. I'm sorry that I didn't owl you, or something."

"I understand perfectly, Miss Briston. As a seventh year, you've a lot to consider right now, what with NEWTs. Do you want to reschedule," asked Madam Hooch, "say, tomorrow night, if you like?"

I couldn't give birth to a viable excuse quickly enough to blow Hooch off. My mind was too divided to function. One half wanted desperately to please Madam Hooch, at whatever cost, and the other wanted to dive under the nearest rock before she saw through my lies and became aware of my shameful secret. "Of course," I forced numbly, clawing the edges of my books with ragged fingernails. I was lucky none of them fought back. "What time?"

"Oh," pondered Hooch aloud, "is seven convenient?"

_Any time would be convenient if I could get you to put your arms around me again…_ Good Christ! I hadn't said that aloud, had I? But no- Hooch was still looking at me expectantly. "Seven is perfect," I emoted cheerfully, though a chilly sweat beaded along my hairline.

"Right," smiled Hooch. "Good day Mary,"

"Bye," I croaked, weakly sliding to floor. Impulsively, I turned and watched as Madam Hooch walked away, her robes swirling around her legs and revealing her swishing hips. I sighed heavily to myself when she disappeared around a corner. I had it bad. But- I was nearly eighteen. I could handle this with dignity and, dare I say it- skill. Madam Hooch couldn't possibly suspect me- I'd been careful to keep my newly discovered orientation secret. Now my main objective was to keep a nice, thick guard up for a month and a bit. Then, I could graduate and forget all about this revealing little experience.

I spent the entire next day piling the strongest bricks my mind could muster around myself- and when the expression on my watch's face looked six-fortyish, I made my way down to the quidditch pitch. Standing in the grass, I stoically scanned the pitch, but saw no trace of Madam Hooch.

My heart tore itself in two- one half soaring elatedly, the other sinking in disappointment. Perhaps she'd forgotten, and I'd be safe for another night. But if she didn't remember to come, I wouldn't be able to see her and that just wouldn't do, either. My circular pattern of thought was abruptly flung out of orbit when a flicker of movement edged into my peripheral vision. As Madam Hooch came across the pitch I remained rudely static, unable to move my feet to meet her. Instead, my eyes moved forwards across the green and wrapped their gaze around Hooch's form, which was starkly outlined by the black slacks and blue jumper she wore.

"Shit, shoot, damn and blast," I muttered. How was I supposed to keep calm if I had to contend with the gorgeous little figure of Xiomara Hooch? "Steady," I chided myself. I couldn't get all hot and bothered before she'd even said two words to me.

"Hello Mary."

And there they were. _Now_ I could get all hot and bothered.

"Hiya," I forced brightly. "What's on this evening?"

"Well," began Madam Hooch with breathy excitement that sent a distinct shiver up each of my individual vertebrae, "I think I'll try to teach you a few tricks on the broom, now that you've got a grip on the basics. What do you say?"

What could I say?

"Sure!" I smiled, not able to refuse. If I couldn't sex this woman up in the Ravenclaw locker room- oh lord- I could certainly learn all she had to teach me, and do it well to please her. That was, if I didn't do a face-plant into the ground.

"Let's get on, then," prompted Hooch, mounting her broom and manoeuvring herself into the warm May air.

Ignoring the preferred meaning of those words I straddled my broomstick, too, and climbed into the air after Hooch- and oh how _coincidentally_ my gaze directed itself towards her bum. Perhaps this was going to be harder that it first appeared. In an effort to rescue myself, I pulled up alongside Hooch instead. "What's this trick you're going to show me, then?"

"Rolling," she offered nonchalantly.

I squinted. This was certainly going to be some sort of interesting. "Are you sure that's wise?" I asked skeptically.

"It's perfectly safe," Madam Hooch established as she leaned her broom into a brain-scrambling roll, emerging with a huge grin across her face. I grinned back.

And that, dear friends, is why several minutes later I found myself upside-down, hanging desperately from my broomstick.

"_Mary_," warned Hooch, coasting up beside me.

I grunted indignantly as my hands started to slip off the handle. "You may not believe this," I grunted defensively, trying to keep my sweaty palms clasped about the broom, "but I'm not actually doing this on purpose."

"Roll out of it," my teacher directed.

I crossed my eyes in frustration, my head beginning to pound from all the blood rushing to it. "Flying fuchsia aardvarks! Do you think I'd be hanging hear like a bloody opossum if I could?" Scratch the marsupial bit- my hands had slipped off and now I quite resembled some sort of giant bat, hanging unceremoniously by my legs. For fleeting moments, my body remained suspended by the broom, and I dully sensed Madam Hooch trying fruitlessly to instruct me out of my predicament.

Oh god, this was so embarrassing. She must think me a right prat. What I wouldn't give for the gumption to just fall off my broom and smush onto the pitch so flatly that even Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be able to scrape me off to salvage my remains. Quite suddenly, however, my strength gave out, my legs cramped and I slipped off my broom without the need of gumption, tumbling limply towards the earth.

I moaned as my head smacked into the grass, although there was really no pain to speak of.

"Mary?" someone questioned hoarsely- and I suspected that this someone was also the owner of the hands holding either side of my body- and I suspected that _that_ someone was Madam Hooch. With insides warm and outsides cold, I opened my eyes.

"Yeah?" I whispered, sitting up.

Without warning, I was clasped into a desperate embrace. "Thank Merlin," Hooch breathed, squeezing me tightly to her. She was frightened, I had to remind myself, and relieved that I was all right. I however, was becoming aroused.

_Fuck_, I thought, feeling my breasts tingling and my abdomen glowing with unwanted heat. I had to get out of here, and some fast.

"Geroff!" I hissed violently, wrenching out of her arms and casting myself bodily away. I made to grab my broom, but Hooch swiftly clutched my wrist and prevented my escape with surprising strength.

"What the bloody hell is the matter with you?" she demanded.

I gaped at her, eyes wide. She was right. I was acting totally insane. As far as Xiomara Hooch was concerned, I was her student, to whom she had given private flying lessons to out of her own time. Oh yes- and there was that bit about her saving me from becoming one with the pitch- what was it? Twice, now?

I was a lousy person. Here I was, treating this woman like rubbish because I couldn't control my hormones or my disgust for my sick desires and she had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on. Practically sopping with guilt, I stared stupidly at her, my lip quivering and eyes glassy. Madam Hooch stared back, confused and at a loss for any course of action that would not result in the explosion of her seemingly mad student.

Stalemate. Foetally, I buried my head into my knees and secured my arms about my shaking legs. Darkness, but not safety. My stomach clenched uneasily, the immaterial illusion of solitude not hiding me from her gaze. An arm slid around my shoulders comfortingly, but I jolted as if in pain.

"Mary?" A soft inquiry. I couldn't force myself to answer. "Mary- are you ill?" I shook my head, though my brain told me that yes, I was quick _sick_. "Are you hurt?" Hooch pleaded, trying to seek out any reason for my hysterics.

"I'm not," I choked out harshly, frustrated by her closeness, and my reaction to it.

Exasperated, Xiomara stalked around, her footsteps sounding dully in the plush grass. "Mary," she began, her voice sounding further away, "I genuinely wish to help you with whatever it is that's bothering you, dear. But I can't- not if you don't tell me what the matter is."

"I can't," I sobbed, her sympathy overwhelming me.

"Why ever not?" she implored gently. "It can't be anything so terrible that you can't tell me."

I stood angrily, my breath coming too quickly. "I'm just fucked up, alright? And I can't tell you, or anyone else why because-" I floundered, "because-"

Trailing off pathetically I shoved my hands in my pockets to stop from wringing them. Hooch continued to watch me with an unreadable expression on her face.

"I don't think I should take flying lessons anymore," I stated quietly.

Madam Hooch advanced upon me, sympathy warming her striking features. "I think I know what this is about," she said.

I looked up at her in shock.

"You needn't be embarrassed, Mary," Hooch continued kindly. "Everyone falls off their broom at first, when learning the tricks especially."

_Mother of Merlin…_ I thought, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

"You see?" said Hooch, pulling up her jumper and revealing her tummy. I squeezed my eyes shut and chewed on my tongue. This was the most absurd sort of torture… "This was from the first time I fell off my broom trying to do a Wronksi Feint. I landed across a fence and tore my stomach open from here-" she must have been pointing, but I sure as hell wasn't looking, "-all the way up to my-"

"Stop!" I gasped, unable to hack this torment. "Jesus Lillian- I'm not embarrassed because I fell off my broom. I- I like you, alright?"

Hooch stared at me. "I like you too, Mary," she replied in a confused sort of way. Quite obviously, the gravity of my words were not apparent to her.

"That's not-" I murmured. "Oh for fuck's sakes. I'll just spell this out, then, shall I?

C-r-u-s-h."

Hooch paled several shades. "What?"

"I fancy you," I whispered, hysteria surfing on my breath.

Hooch gazed at me dully- she looked, too, as though she were going to throw up. I waited for her to say something- anything would have been better than the blankness in her eyes- but nothing came. My anger was snuffed out and I was emptied. I turned, shamefully, and walked away. She didn't stop me.

It was a month and a bit later that I, having finished my exams, received an owl from and unmarked sender. Immediately, I assumed it was my parents who'd sent it. A nasty habit, to be sure, they never put their names on the post, knowing that it wouldn't get read right away if I knew who it was from. Smiling at the familiar ruse, I chucked the owl a treat, and absently tore the envelope open.

"Bother," I squeaked, crumpling the parchment. What the hell did _she_ want? I hadn't even seen her, much less spoken to her since the day of my explosion on the pitch. I tried to move on from the whole mess- though I still had dreams of Xiomara Hooch and I very much together…

But this was ridiculous- I had to read the damn thing. With dreadful curiosity, I opened the letter up and read through it quickly.

Apparently, Hooch felt guilty and wanted to apologise to _me_. She didn't talk to me earlier, not wanting to interrupt my studying, but could I please meet her the next day for tea in her offices?

I put the letter down and gazed stupidly at the floor. Just then, movement flickered in my peripheral vision- brilliantly pink. I looked over, and from underneath the bed skirt a large, fuchsia aardvark leered up at me mockingly…

"Gah!" I yelped, jolting out of sleep. In a tangle of sheets, blankets and bed curtains, I landed in an unceremonious heap on the floor. Disoriented, I glanced about the dark room, but no aardvarks- fuchsia or otherwise- graced the carpet.

Feeling intensely stupid, I climbed back into bed and scrubbed at my grimy eyes. It wasn't a month later. It wasn't even a sodding day later. And after that brilliant display I'd put on, no wonder that aardvark was laughing at me. Hooch owling to arrange a special meeting with me so she could ask my forgiveness? Bollocks. I was the one who needed to do some serious apologizing. But what would I say?

_Yeah- sorry about that Madam Hooch, I didn't mean to scream at you and then confess my undying love…_That would go across the channel like a weighted corpse.

I could owl her an apology, but that would be weird too, wouldn't it? Perhaps I could accost her after a quidditch match and quickly spew out my regrets. Nope- that was such a git, insincere thing to do. I smacked my forehead, reshuffling my thoughts like a bad hand of cards, hoping a better combination would turn up.

But perhaps I was over thinking this. Screw the weird factor- it didn't get any weirder than telling your teacher that you were a might-be lesbian who fancied her. I'd owl an apology, and hope for the best. With resolve, I calmed myself and crept down to the common room to write.

Staring into the shimmering embers that fought for life in the drafty hearth I started off in my head.

_Dear Madam Hooch…_ No- scratch that. 'Dear' just wasn't an option at this point. I kept on, and when I found a suitable beginning, I grabbed my quill and began to put my thoughts to parchment.

_Madam Hooch, I realize that I really cocked messed things up, and that you likely don't want to hear another word out of me, but I want to apologize for my outburst. I was rude and hurtful, and acted more or less as though I were insane. At this point, I'm beginning to believe I might be. _

_Regardless, I want you to know that I am sorry, and that I am grateful for your kindness and the flying lessons. I don't deserve either. _

_Sincerely, Mary Briston_

And that was that. Sighing heavily, I rolled up the small scrap and attached it to Albrecht's scaly yellow leg. As he soared towards another part of the castle, I felt as though I'd finally managed to do something right. For the remainder of the night, I slept more soundly than I had in a month.

When I opened my eyes to bright, morning sunlight and the silhouette of an owl on my windowsill, my heart jolted. She hadn't written back already, had she?

No- it was only Albrecht, legs devoid, wanting breakfast. As did I.

In the great hall, I tucked in voraciously. The surprising return of my appetite pleased me and on my full stomach, I began to put things into perspective. Yes, I'd screamed at Madam Hooch and told her I had a crush on her, but I had apologized and that, really, was the end of it.

"Everything will be fine," I said to myself, taking another sip of tea.

"I'm sure it will be, Miss Briston."

Spewing my tea clear across the table onto an unhappy looking first year, I turned around. "Madam Hooch," I gasped, tea clogging my windpipe, "I- did you- wha-"

"I should like to speak with you," she said, not unkindly. "Would you please come with me?"

I looked imploringly at the nearest person to save me- it was the boy I'd just sprayed with tea. Right- no help there. Glancing about, I saw no one else I knew who could bail me out.

"Mary," Hooch prompted. I gulped.

Not wanting to make a scene in front of god only knew how many students, I stood and numbly followed her out of the hall. I expected that she'd stop just outside the doors, and when she kept walking I really began to panic. What on earth was she going to say- or do- that she couldn't get done in a hallway?

Hooch stopped abruptly in front of a doorway in an unfamiliar hallway- and I narrowly avoided running straight into her.

"Flying fuchsia aardvarks," she said, looking back at me to see if I was amused by the password she had chosen. I wasn't.

"_I _thought it was funny," she remarked quietly, moving into the room as the door swung open with a dismal squeak. I stood in the doorway, wringing my hands. I couldn't help but look, though, at the brightly burning fire, the squashy armchairs and the large, impossibly cluttered desk.

"Do sit down, Mary," Hooch implored softly. "I haven't brought you here to scold, mock, or otherwise degrade you. I feel that this problem warrants more discussion and to do that, we need to get two things in order; the first being to sit down, and the second to get some hot tea. Although," Hooch continued, a barely existent smirk tugging at her delicate lips, "if you even think about spitting yours all over me, I shall not be amused."

A weak, nervous smile broke my melancholy expression and I sat down in the chair nearest the fire, pulling the inhabiting throw pillow into my lap and clutching it in a death grip.

Madam Hooch muddled about with the tea for a few moments, giving me time, it seemed, to become thoroughly nervous. When she handed me my cup, I took it shakily, sloshing tea over the rim. She pretended not to notice my clumsiness, and instead sat in the chair opposite mine."I received your owl this morning, Mary," said Hooch, sipping at her tea. "I accept your apology and realise why you lost your temper- it's a difficult thing, hiding your feelings, especially when you and I were working as closely as we were. Perhaps I was leading you on- No, let me finish," she said as I moved to interrupt her. "I realise that I- uh- touched you frequently and that I am partly responsible for the way you feel. I'm a bit of a lonely old crone-"

"You're not!" I stated indignantly. "A crone, I mean."

Hooch raised an eyebrow. "And as I was saying," she continued, "I've been needing human contact, and I feel I've taken advantage of you in that sense."

"You haven't," I offered quietly. "It's my fault I'm ins-"

"Mary," Hooch said a little harshly and I looked up at her. "You are not insane- or fucked up, as you put it yesterday. You can't help who you become attracted to and I don't think any less of you for being attracted to a woman rather than a man. I'm not one of the fire-brandishing, pitchfork hurling lunatics and I see absolutely nothing wrong with homosexuality, or bisexuality, whatever the case may be. You are a vibrant, talented, caring young woman and I don't want you to let anyone make you believe otherwise, alright?"

I nodded.

"Drink your tea, dear," she instructed.

"Yes Madam Hooch," I murmured, bringing the cup to my lips, letting the warm liquid soothe the lump building in my throat.

"I am immensely flattered," Hooch continued delicately, "that you chose me, for whatever reason, though I expect you know as well as I do that nothing could actually take place between us."

"That's why I was trying so hard to keep it a secret- I didn't want you to think me strange for wanting someone who is so- so-"

"Just say it, Mary," she said briskly. "I'm well aware of my age."

"-much older than I," I finished stupidly.

"It's not so much the age difference," she argued, and I gasped inwardly, "but the fact that as a teacher, I'm in a position of power over you- and any other student- and it would be wrong to take advantage. I won't lie to you, Mary- I've been in several relationships with women in my life, as well as men, and were we under different circumstances I-" but she trailed off, realising I suppose that she was still in fact the teacher, and I her student.

"I understand," I said, though I was more confused than ever.

"I'm glad," she replied, a smile with such warmth spreading over her face I thought I might dissolve and absorb into the squashy old chair.

"Me too," I agreed quietly. Silence descended over us for a moment and I took a long sip of my tea, the stone residing in my throat shrinking a little more. Gathering courage, I decided to ask a bit of a stupid question.

"Madam Hooch," I began, and she looked at me, her amber eyes like a curious cat's, "could- could I keep taking flying lessons?"

She seemed to consider this, though I could see that she didn't think it prudent in light of our recent understanding of one another. "Do you think that wise, Mary?" she asked, fidgeting with the fringe on the pillow her arm rested on. It was the second time I'd seen her look so vulnerable- like another person who desired and worried and loved. And it only made _me_ want her more. She had said she was lonely, too, and though I certainly couldn't pull her into a torrid love affair, perhaps I could wheedle my way into allowing her time with someone who did care for her- regardless of how secret it must be kept, how the both of us might have to repress our feelings, whatever they were.

"Yes," I said solidly, "I do."

"All right," Madam Hooch conceded, "But-"

"No falling off my broom, taking nosedives, or otherwise maiming myself by smushing into the pitch?" I finished cheekily.

"You're no slouch, Mary," complemented the sweet woman with equal sassiness, the familiar phrase not lost on me.

The chiming of the great clock cut off my witty retort.

"Crap!" I yelped, leaping out of the chair. "Snape is going to skin me if I'm late for Advanced Potions!" Grabbing my books I madly tried to untangle my robes from between my legs so I could walk.

Madam Hooch placed a steadying hand on my arm, squeezing gently. "Calm down, dear- I'll write you a note, telling Professor Snape that I kept you late talking about our lessons."

I took a deep breath and realised that her warm hand was still resting gently on my arm. We both looked down at the innocent gesture with some trepidation.

"I'm so sorry," Madam Hooch said nervously, jerking her hand away. "I'll write you that note, then."

I stood awkwardly as she searched for a scrap bit of parchment on her jumbled desk, embarrassment for the both of us colouring my pale cheeks. When she handed the scrap of paper to me, I took it slowly, letting my fingers touch hers. "It's alright," I said quickly as she flinched. "I need contact, too."

Xiomara bit her lip and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they glistened with what I hoped weren't tears. Our hands, still hovering closely, met again and her fingers caressed mine so gently I wasn't sure it had happened at all.

"I'll see you on the pitch at seven, tomorrow," she said softly. "Don't be late."

"I won't," I promised in a whisper.

I had flying lessons every second day for the remainder of my time before examinations, and though Hooch and I never really discussed our odd relationship, we grew closer. Once my secret was out, being around her was no longer uncomfortable. I cherished each small touch, throaty laugh and cheeky smirk- but I still couldn't actually do anything about it. But, that didn't stop the dreams that made me wake up, hot, flushed and very much aroused- and Xiomara Hooch was always mine, at least in my subconscious fantasies. But I didn't act- couldn't. That was the unspoken arrangement, the way it was.

Or the way it would be until I graduated. The thought saddened me. Leaving Hogwarts meant more than just leaving my childhood behind- it meant leaving Madam Hooch. I could live without sprawling green grounds, enchanted corridors and grand feasts. But leaving her? She wasn't a charming bit of nostalgia.

What she taught me and what I felt for her- that was something I wanted for my future, too. Love; a relationship. It seemed as though my crush hadn't simply gone away, it had developed into actual affection for Madam Hooch. And yet nothing could come of it, not even after I graduated. Rumours would start up, people would say that she had taken advantage of me and that we'd been messing about before graduation. That would not be approved of by Dumbledore, certainly- and even more certainly, the ministry would frown upon it. Xiomara could at the least lose the respect of her students and fellow faculty members, and at the most, her job. And that was all to say that Hooch actually wanted me, too. Her unfinished sentence that day in her offices had left too much to actually be said.

_I won't lie to you, Mary- I've been in several relationships with women in my life, as well as men, and were we under different circumstances… _But anything could have finished that phrase. 'Were we under different circumstances, I'd tell you about them,' or 'Were we under different circumstances, I'd even show you some old snapshots of my first girlfriend.' I'd couldn't decipher the meaning of her oblique phrasing at the time, and I probably never would.

Desolately, I resolved to say goodbye to her at our flying lesson today. It would be the last time she and I were alone together before the graduation ceremonies the next day and I was going to get as much flying in as possible before I had to leave Hogwarts forever.

I met her on the pitch that afternoon, the air colder than it had been, clouds smeared across the not-so-blue sky. Confused to find the woman sitting on the ground, a good-sized leather box before her, I approached somewhat slowly. She heard me coming and smiling, looked up at me.

"Hello," I said, genuine happiness mingled with a bit of forced cheerfulness to cover my regret. This day would not be wrecked by my gloom. "What've you got there?" I asked, gesturing towards the box.

"This," Hooch said, a mischievous sparkling in her eyes, "is going to be a whole lot of fun."

I quirked and eyebrow. "The last time you said something like that, I nearly wound up embedding my broomstick and my body into the Whomping Willow. What gives?"

"We're going to catch the snitch," Hooch said gleefully, opening the box and removing the small golden quidditch ball.

"Right," I commented dryly. "What's going to happen is that _you're_ going to catch the Snitch and I'm going to wind up flying into the castle _trying _to catch it."

"I'll go easy on you, dear," she cajoled, standing up and straddling her broomstick. "Are we on?"

I rolled my eyes. I hadn't a chance against Madam Hooch the quidditch ace- but screw that. Time with her was time all the same. "What the hell," I sighed, upping my broom and hovering into the air.

"I'll give it to the count of three," she said, pressing the small button that released the wings of the magicked ball. "One- two- three-"

And we were off. The high-pitched whine of the snitch rang in my ears and I did my best to try and follow it's mad course through the air- but Hooch was beating me. Her small, lithe form crouched aerodynamically along the broomstick and streaked ahead of me at an impossible speed.

"I thought you said you'd go easy on me!" I yelled as her form grew smaller and smaller against the horizon.

Hooch pulled her broom up short and stopped mid-air. "So sorry, Mary," she smirked at me as I caught up to her. "I'll try to slow down for you."

I rolled my eyes and leaned forwards, gathering speed. I'd show her- I'd catch that snitch. Grinning, Hooch tore after me and we ducked and weaved around each other, vying for the position of capturer. Shoulder to shoulder, Hooch leaned into me, shoving me out of range of the coveted ball.

"Hey!" I complained. "This is slowing down?"

"I'm beside you, aren't I?" Madam Hooch asked, her eyes warming innocently.

I chewed my lip. She had _never_ implied, let alone mentioned my crush on her. "I'm certainly not complaining," I replied, driving her out of the way again.

"Yes you were," she joked indignantly, resting her head alongside mine for a short but jolting moment. My stomach flopped about like a gasping fish- but in a good, happy gasping fish sort of way- if an asphyxiated marine animal could be happy…

"If you do that again," I began boldly, "I shall fall right off my broom."

My flying teacher smirked at me in a deliciously naughty sort of way. "I know."

I stared at her, the chase forgotten. She stared back at me with those eyes, and it felt almost as though- but her gaze flickered away.

"There it is!" Hooch proclaimed suddenly.

"Huh?" I mumbled confusedly, but before my mind could register the fact that she had just spotted the snitch, she was off again, leaving me in the dust. Shaking my head, I sped off after her so as not to appear a total reject. We shoved and shouldered each other away from the ball for a good five minutes, neither of us gaining any headway. I was so impressed with the fact that I was still in the running that I didn't realise how close to the ground we were getting. Hooch, it appeared, hadn't noticed either, and the next time we collided into each other, her foot came in contact with the ground and it sent us both flying off of our broomsticks and rolling across the pitch in a mess of arms and legs. When our momentum gave out, I was lying on top of Madam Hooch, my knee between her legs and hers between mine.

"Shit- sorry-" I mumbled as I climbed off of my teacher and collapsed on the grass beside her. "Are you alright?"

Hooch moaned in reply and attempted to sit up. "I've got the snitch," she said with more than a little bit of triumph. "But I think I've hurt my ankle."

My heart leapt up into my throat and lodged itself there, making it indeed difficult to breath. If I'd gone and broken her ankle the day before I had to leave her- christ. In a bit of a panic, I knelt quickly beside my incapacitated teacher and helped her to sit up, supporting her with my body. "Can you walk? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?"

Hooch grunted indignantly. "No you bloody well shouldn't. Poppy Pomfrey would rightly implode with glee if she knew I hurt myself messing about on a broomstick. Help me up and I'll be alright to get to my rooms."

"Right," I said shakily, hooking my arms under Hooch's until she stood unsteadily, leaning against me. "Where're the brooms? If I could get one of them and sit you on it we could-"

"They'll be halfway across the lake by now," Madam Hooch scowled, trying to put weight on her injured ankle and finding she couldn't.

"What about your wand- you don't have that?"

"Of course not," Hooch snapped, wincing in pain. "Even if I'd had my wand on me, it would've been splintered to bits in that crash."

"Look," I began practically, "you can't even walk. Let me go and get Madam Pomfrey and she'll-"

"Make me feel like a complete child," Hooch finished stubbornly.

I rolled my eyes, muttering, "You're already acting like one."

"Sorry?" Hooch asked sharply, her golden eyes piercing into mine.

"I said," smiling sweetly, "let's get you to your rooms, then."

Good lord. Instead of getting her ankle fixed, Hooch and I spent the next half hour getting to her rooms- the older woman leaning on me and I doing my best not to collapse. Hooch wasn't by any means a large woman- but her petite form was enough to weigh my equally short body down.

When finally the Madam was sitting comfortably on her couch, under a warm blanket and with a mug of tea in her hands, I flopped down on the floor beside the sofa, sweaty and not at all amused.

"Are you quite content, now?" I asked grumpily, mopping my moist brow with the end of my grass-stained sleeve.

Madam Hooch gave me a catty, self-satisfied smirk. "Quite."

Shaking my head, I shifted to stop my foot from falling asleep, but wound up looking directly at Hooch's face. Lapsing into some alternate world where it was perfectly normal for me to sit memorizing her features, I gazed intently upon her dear nose and sketchy, mirthful mouth. Hooch regarded me with luminous, questioning eyes, _her _eyes- glinting amber speckled with gold; animal eyes, hawk eyes.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, startling me out of my reverie. Dredging myself out of the tawny orbs, I focused once more on the Xiomara Hooch I wasn't supposed to be staring at as an attainable woman. A wistful shadow of a smile played about her lips.

"You," I settled quietly, embarrassed to say it out loud. Madam Hooch nodded, even a little sadly. Did she, too, feel the impending separation? Was she troubled that I was leaving, or had she merely noted that I was upset and realised instinctively that I needed to see that she was hurting, too? Couldn't she just say something before my mind rolled off the table like a mess of inky quills?

"So," Hooch began suddenly, brightly. "You haven't told me what you're planning to do with yourself after Hogwarts."

For a moment, my mind didn't register the fact that she had very blatantly changed the subject, and we had again lapsed into frivolity. Grinding my teeth in frustration I took a few moments to compose myself.

"I'm not sure," I mused, though I had been sitting on the idea of going on to a profession in potion making. Snape, as big and greasy a git as he was, had suggested specially that I might apply for an apprenticeship at the ministry in the developmental division- and I was seriously considering his suggestion, especially considering the near perfect mark I'd achieved on my final examinations for advanced potions. "I suppose I'll find something, so long as it has absolutely nothing to do with astronomy."

Hooch smiled fondly, I supposed, at the memory of me lobbing my failed star chart over the ramparts of the castle. "You'll keep up your flying, won't you?"

I bit my lip, frowning a little. "It won't be any fun without-" But I couldn't finish the sentence. Pronouns jammed in my larynx, stuck to my woolly tongue like Velcro. No amount of my dancing about the subject would excuse the fact that I was entirely attached to Xiomara Hooch- but could I actually admit it to her…

"-the impending doom of flattening yourself on to the pitch?" she joked with incredibly feigned innocence.

"No," I snapped petulantly, averting my eyes before she saw the pain lingering there. Her humour hurt, as funny as she might have thought it. It was fine for her to joke, but Madam Hooch was not a stupid woman, and she must have known how I felt about her- and at the very least realised that I was fond of her. But perhaps she honestly didn't know. Perhaps she thought that I had gotten over my little crush and now we were simply friends- it was difficult to believe, but maybe I'd invented all of her flirtations and seemingly personal touches. I'd just have to make it quite clear in case in Hooch had misplaced the facts.

"Madam Hooch," I began, struggling to keep my voice level, "I'm going to have to be quite brave so for a moment, could we please nix the witty banter and be serious?"

Hooch, taken aback, merely nodded for me to continue.

Taking a steadying breath, I sat up on my knees and looked directly into her golden eyes. "I-I think I might love-- you."

And it was true. Mere lust had fled the scene, leaving behind his slightly more reliable counterpart, actual love- whether Xiomara Hooch liked it or not.

"Madam Hooch?" I prompted after several minutes of disquieting silence.

"I think you'd best call me Xiomara at this point, dear," she said slowly, with tinges of regret glinting off the words metallically.

"Xiomara?" I meeped questioningly. Had I actually managed to make the leap over the tricky gap that separated us?

"You simply can't refer to someone as _Madam _after you've told her you love her," she explained softly.

"You don't mind that-"

"No, dear," she cut in. "It's hardly your fault you've become attached to me."

"My fault…" I murmured, devastated.

"If I hadn't in some way wanted your affection," Hooch explained practically, "I would've said no when you requested that we continue our lessons."

"That's generous of you," I choked harshly. "Well that's brilliant. It'll be your fault, then- for being kind and for understanding me for who I am, for leading me on and- fuck- what was that on the brooms today? Did you think it was alright to fool around with me just because I'm leaving tomorrow- because you'll never have to see me again? Really great move there, _Xiomara_. I actually adore you, but yeah- I guess it is your own fault, because god forbid that anyone genuinely care for you of their own accord."

Xiomara stared at me, her mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Horrified at my own cruelty, I clapped a hand over my acrid mouth and turned away, leaving Hooch to look at my trembling shoulders. I sat, stunned once again by my inane ability to create utter _fuck_ in such a small window of time. This was not at all what I had in mind when I'd left my dormitory for the pitch this afternoon in search of a happy last memory with Madam Hooch. All I wanted was a bit of flying, maybe her hand would rest gently against my arm when I'd done something well- and that was the end of it. I buried my face in my hands and cried like some kid who'd just seen its favourite stuffy being run over by a lawn mower, and Hooch left me to it.

When I gained a bit of control, I moved to leave, but Xiomara stopped me with a soft touch, her hand running through my short, light hair. I turned my head into her slightly callused hand, her thumb caressing my cheek.

"I'm going to miss you," I whispered weakly, my anger once again playing the truant when I needed its strength.

"Mary," Xiomara appeased, swinging her legs over the side of the couch and sliding down beside me on the floor. "Darling, come here."

My face crumpled and I reluctantly leaned forwards into her open arms, trying desperately to hold myself back but failing against the luring warmth. I couldn't _do _this- not now. I'd made it all through a month without caving and here I was, clinging to her.

"Calm down," Hooch fretted, rubbing my back. "You're going to make yourself sick."

"-sorry," I whimpered before gasping air in like reverse vomit.

"Don't apologize," Xiomara chided gently. "Just breathe before you pass out and I have to get Pomfrey down here by owl, at which point she'd notice my ankle and start on me about that."

I laughed weakly and nuzzled my cheek against her shirt, breathing deeply until my hysterics were contained to the occasional snuffle.

"Alright?" Xiomara questioned finally, her breath warm against my temple.

I nodded, sitting up a little but really in no hurry to get out of her arms.

"Good," she said, squeezing my arm affectionately, "because I still have a few things to clear up, too. But first," she continued, wincing a little, "to the couch, because my legs are falling asleep and my foot is becoming really unhappy."

Shuffling around awkwardly, I wiped my tearstained face and helped her onto the couch, shifting a footstool around so she could rest her leg on it. Finally settled down under the blanket I took my chances and casually leaned against Xiomara's warm body, smiling when her arm slipped about my waist quite comfortably.

"Now," she began seriously, "keeping in mind that you're not to repeat anything I've said in the next five minutes to anyone, I'm going to be very honest with you, too."

"Right," I said, looking over into her eyes and preparing myself for what she was about to say- whatever it was. I'd wanted the truth from her, wanted her to treat me as an adult- but now that it was actually going to happen, I was nervous as hell.

Xiomara blew the steam away from her tea and took a sip before beginning. "You are a dear, sweet person, Mary- and I do love you-"

"You do _what_?" I remarked disbelievingly, my stomach fluttering.

Hooch rolled her eyes and took my hand, caressing my fingers lightly. "Love you- and don't sound so bloody surprised about it. I realise that I haven't exactly come out and said it- I couldn't as your teacher, not without risking my job-"

"I've not graduated yet," I reminded her meekly, still reeling from the fact that she _did_ love me.

"Sod it," Xiomara said roughly. "You are so talented and vibrant and I'm not allowed to have you- but toss it all for five minutes. I've thought about it for weeks, since you told me that you fancied me, and though I can't do anything that would jeopardise my position at Hogwarts, I'll be buggered if I'm going to let you leave here hurt and confused- and I certainly don't want you to remember me as the woman who treated you like a child instead of fessing up to her own feelings."

I let my gaze sink guiltily. That was exactly what I had been prepared to do several minutes earlier.

"Look at me," Xiomara implored, discarding her tea on the end table and taking my face in her hands. I met her serious gaze. "Now," she said, wiping another stray tear from my cheek, "I love you, and though I'm not going to let it happen as you are leaving- given time and fact that you'd no longer be my student, I could fall _in _love with you. I've never been attracted to someone so much younger than I, but as I told you before, I could care less- and I know that what there is between us isn't a schoolgirl crush any longer, if it was to begin with. There's something about you, Mary, that makes you older than your years, but that doesn't negate the fact that you're still seventeen-"

"Eighteen," I corrected. "My birthday was two weeks ago."

"Happy birthday," Madam Hooch conceded. "At any rate, you are still young- and I trust you've not been in any sort of relationship before-"

I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it. "No, but I-"

Hooch ignored me and pushed on. "You're going out to make something of yourself- you'll find someone else to whom you'll be attracted, and it will be under circumstances that will allow a relationship to flourish. That being said, I will always be here for you when you need someone to talk to, drink tea with, or tackle to the pitch in a heated chase of the snitch. I'm not going anywhere- is that understood?"

I nodded, bravely trying to force a smile onto my lips, but my chest ached- likely my heart, angry about not getting it's way. "Xiomara?"

"Yes?"

"That only took about two minutes."

She cocked her head in fleeting confusion, frowning suddenly as the meaning of my pointed comment became apparent. "I can't- you aren't- I'm still-"

I put my arm around her waist, sliding down until I held her hip. "I'm not a child, Xio- not nearly. Give me this, before I have to leave you."

Flushed, Xiomara gasped as my fingers trailed lightly over her abdomen. With experience, she calmed herself and tried to regain control of the situation. "And what did you want me to do with the remaining three minutes, sweetheart?"

"I'm sure you could think of something," I coaxed, moving closer until our faces were only inches apart.

"I'm sure I could, too," Xiomara flirted, running her hands slowly up my arms and into my hair. And then she kissed me. It wasn't a wet, sloppy, I'm-going-to-fuck-you-into-next-year kind of kiss, nothing of the sort. But it was warm and compassionate and through it, everything that Xiomara said made sense. She did love me, and wanted the best for me- but she also wasn't going to create a one night stand that would leave us both feeling like trodden-on cack.

Breathlessly, I pulled away, both flying and forlorn. I was going to miss her like crazy- and how could I be sure she was right? That I'd find someone else who I was so drawn to- who actually loved me back? As far as I was concerned, the fact that Xiomara Hooch was attracted to me was an anomaly in itself. I was short, hippy- not much of a chest to speak of- cropped mousy brown hair, and then there were my absolutely boring blue eyes. Yep- I was just _gorgeous_. And if that wasn't unattractive enough, there were my godforsaken freckles to deal with- and the glasses, which I ditched as often as possible, but needed for potions and reading. I must have been staring at her again, looking dejected.

"Hey," Xiomara purred, pulling me close. "I'm sure that only took one minute."

I grinned wickedly, burying my unhappiness under a façade of mirthful seduction and tilted my head up in a decidedly suggestive position. "Give us another, then."

And she did. Feeling more than a little bold, I let my lips fall open a tad- just to see what it was like, of course- and coaxed Xiomara's warm tongue into my mouth, sucking gently- and then she moaned. Well- that was my bloody undoing, and it seemed to be hers, as well.

"I think we'd best leave it at that," Xiomara breathed huskily, resting her cheek against mine. I nodded and hugged her tightly, instead.

"It's nearly dinner," I mentioned needlessly, emptiness finding it's way into my chest, which had just moments before been filled with glowing warmth. "We should go down to the great hall and-"

"I can't walk," Hooch reminded me, though I thought I detected more than a glimmer of a smirk playing about her lips.

"That's true," I conceded mischievously, my heart lifting a bit. "You'll have to eat here-"

"-and I really shouldn't be left alone in my condition."

"Nope."

Xiomara grinned at me. "What do you fancy- and just to save you time, I'm not on the menu."

And what came after that doesn't really make any difference. Xiomara and I had a quiet dinner together, cuddled afterwards on her couch in a decidedly platonic fashion, and I left her rooms by nine o'clock, so as not to look totally suspicious crawling into bed at two in the morning.

"Where were you?" asked some random Ravenclaw seventh year as I moseyed past the festivities in the common room. Everyone in the lower grades had gone home the day before, not having to stick around for the ceremonies. And besides that, the Hogwarts Express needed to be clear to run parents to the commencement and back, including their kids who were graduating and needed to get home, too.

"Hospital wing," I lied quickly. "I was feeling off, so Pomfrey gave me some nasty potion or other. I'm fine now."

"We're having a game of wizards poker," Nick Harper offered. "You want in?"

Thankful for the welcome diversion, I forced a sly grin, waggled my eyebrows and sat down. "Prepare to be sucked dry, Harper."

"Mary Briston," Dumbledore announced grandly. "Last, but certainly not least."

Rolling my eyes, I stood up. It would figure that he'd decided to start at the bottom and work upwards- but I guess I could live with it. Besides- standing up in front of loads of people always turned my knees to jelly.

Straightening my deep blue Ravenclaw dress robes and hat, I walked slowly to the platform at the front of the Great Hall, and graduated.

Handshaking and random congratulatory remarks followed in near dizzying quantities and for a moment, I found myself fairly smothered by well-wishers and fellow entrapped graduates. Not my cup of tea at all. Sneakily, I wended my way out of the crowd and seated myself under the looming watch of a tall stained glass window, preferring of course the opening that displayed my former house crest.

Looking up at the majestic symbol, I wondered why I hadn't seen a particular Ravenclaw at all that day. Had she not come, still put out by her pride and long, but joking animosity towards Madam Pomfrey? Or perhaps she was hidden during the ceremonies by someone taller than she- after all, it didn't take much to shadow Xiomara's tiny stature. On this I mused for several moments until I was fortuitously interrupted.

"Congratulations, dear," she whispered in my ear, squeezing my shoulder warmly.

I smiled, and shuffled over so she could share the sill with me. "I thought you hadn't come."

Madam Hooch- Xiomara- Xio- whatever the hell I was calling her now, quirked an eyebrow. "Did you really think I was going to let that ankle keep me from seeing my students- and you especially- graduate from Hogwarts?"

I made a face. "You mean that you made me practically carry you across the grounds of Hogwarts yesterday to have you change your mind and get your ankle fixed the next?"

Xiomara grinned guiltily. "Perhaps. Although, I might've been slightly swayed by the fact that it was _you_ who was going to 'practically carry' me to my rooms."

"You are unbelievable," I commented, mildly irked by her confession that came so easily to her now, when a day before she would have eaten a hippogriff rather than tell me she wanted me, too. "What would have happened, between us I mean, if I hadn't lost it on you yesterday? Would you have let me leave without telling me that you- well-" I lowered my voice to a whisper, "that you love me?"

"I don't know," she admitted faintly. "I'd been trying to get it across, somehow- but then, I told you that last night, didn't I?"

"Right," I nodded. "Well- I guess done is done, regardless of what might've happened- because what happened was-" I searched for an adequate adjective.

"Bloody fantastic?" Xiomara finished for me.

"Definitely bloody fantastic," I echoed, wanting nothing more than to repeat last night over and over again until I made it further than a kiss, knowing it wasn't going to happen. A little forlornly, I gazed at Xiomara until I was rudely interrupted.

"There you are, Mary! We wondered where you disappeared to so quickly."

I chewed on my lip. Looking up, I was nearly blinded by the light emanating from my proudly beaming parents. Excellent timing, as usual.

"Mum, Dad- this is Madam Hooch."

"Xiomara," corrected Hooch warmly, offering a hand from beneath shimmering cobalt robes. I reminded myself that later, if there were time, I would have to tell her how gorgeous she looked today.

"Ah, yes!" my father exclaimed, sticking out his hand. "The woman of infinite patience that's been teaching our daughter to fly. Mad yet, are you?"

"Bentley," my mother cautioned, smiling brightly at Madam Hooch. "You'll have to excuse my husband, Xiomara- he hasn't been the same since the accident."

Xiomara looked over at me, startled. I rolled my eyes. "Mum's taking the mickey. Dad doesn't need accidents to act like a nutter."

My father waggled his eyebrows and Xiomara laughed. "I wouldn't be snide kiddo," he cautioned teasingly. "It's hereditary."

"That explains a lot," Madam Hooch said, sending a sidelong smirk my way.

"Dig, dig, dig," I bantered, wrinkling my nose. "I _told_ you when we started that I was going to end up smushing myself into the pitch."

Xiomara cackled. "What you didn't mention was that you were going to take me down with you."

Xio and I glared mischievously at one another until we realised that my parents were still there, likely wondering what the hell we were on about. Turning back to them, I smiled innocently.

"I might've _nearly_ been in a few broomstick related accidents-" I explained to my now worried looking folks, "but Madam Hooch saved my skin."

"Yes," Xiomara agreed, putting on her most convincingly innocuous look. "Mary did have quite a knack for taking nose-dives. Speaking of- you both wouldn't mind if I stole Mary away for a moment, would you?"

I glanced nervously at Hooch, and then at my parental units, but dear old mum and dad only smiled genially. They had no reason to think anything of Xiomara other than that she was a nice older woman who taught under the infinitely respected Dumbledore.

"Of course, Xiomara," my mother said.

"Last minute instructions?" my father said.

"Exactly," Xiomara said.

And quick as that, my clever Madam Hooch managed to swing us some time to ourselves- _away_ from my parents and the rest of the other hundred or so people that constipated the great hall.

"It was nice to have met you, both," Hooch offered with a miraculously guiltless smile as she ushered me towards the doors, her hand pressed into the small of my back.

"We'll see you at the dinner," my mother called after me, but I was already too caught up in Xiomara again to respond.

"That was smooth," I complemented once we had left the noise of the great hall. "What've you got up your sleeve?"

"Last minute instructions, puss," Xiomara purred as we moved outside the castle and onto the pitch.

Innocent words for her suggestive tone- I grinned. "Smooching in the coach's showers?"

Xiomara actually frowned at me. "Your parents, need I remind you, are a stone-throw away."

Apparently, she did need. Had I fucked up again? I could've _sworn_ that the 'puss' tagged ever so affectionately onto the sentence had meant at least a _little _more than last minute instructions.

"You and my parents got on well- "

Hooch snorted, cutting me off. "And do you think they'd still fancy me if they knew I'd had a snog on the sofa in my quarters with their darling daughter?"

I grimaced and stopped short near the base of what happened to be a quidditch goal. "How long are you planning to hammer yourself over the head with that?" I asked abruptly.

"I'm not hammering," she exclaimed indignantly, lurching forwards again at an agitated pace.

"Alright," I appeased, jogging to catch up. "Don't get all snippy- and please don't be angry with me. I only meant that I don't want you to regret kissing me- or regret me in general, for that matter."

Xiomara was the one to halt our progress across the verdant grounds this time. "I don't regret _anything_- save the fact that I can't keep you with me. Got it?"

I nodded, flabbergasted and more than a little warmed by her fierce affection.

"Good," she said, absently caressing my cheek with the back of her small hand. "Now- let's get on, dinner is to start at seven and I'm supposed to have you back by then, aren't I?"

I nodded again, we'd both heard my mother. Hooch started off once more towards the storage shed where the spare brooms lived. Apparently, we really _were_ going over last minute instructions to be sure I didn't off myself should I decided to carry on with my flying. Well- that was disappointing. But, as my brain had stated on other occasions, time with Xiomara…

But this was the last time.

"Mary?"

"Hmm?"

"Thought I'd lost you for a moment, dear. Grab a broom and we'll get started."

"Right," I conceded, shaking the obscenities out of my head. I ditched my cap on a nearby shelf in exchange for a broom and when the sleek wooden handle lay in my hands, I looked expectantly at Xiomara, who stood broom-less and smirking.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "You won't give me a kiss or two in the privacy of an empty shower room, but you'll climb up behind me on a broom and fly around the pitch where anyone who isn't blind could see?"

"Purely instructional purpose only, Mary," Hooch insisted innocently.

_We'll see about that…_ I thought naughtily to myself, though I obediently walked towards Xiomara, sitting the broom in the air with skill I shouldn't have had. Slowly, I lifted my robes enough to straddle the stick, showing a great deal of leg as I did so. I didn't need to see Xiomara to hear the barely controlled intake of breath she tried to suppress- it was nice to know that it worked both ways. I did, however, take a lengthy look as her shapely, leather-clad calve emerged from beneath a fold of her cobalt robes. I was pleasantly surprised when Xiomara settled herself warmly behind me, wrapping her arms 'round my waist in a possessive caress.

I was loathe to get going, but Xiomara seemed intent on us actually getting something done. "Kick off," she urged gently, and I took us into the air. "Now," Hooch instructed softly in my ear, "take us into a roll."

I did so- almost effortlessly, actually- which led me to suspect that Xiomara had somehow, very sneakily, given me some help.

"Well done," she praised, hugging me tenderly to her.

"I might've had some incentive," I murmured, leaning back into her arms.

Xiomara cackled lightly. "I should have hopped on the same broom with you sooner."

I heartily agreed, though I kept this to myself. Surely she felt my acquiescence emanating warmly from me.

"Now," she continued, "how about a double- but come at it from the left this time."

"Right," I said. "And keep out of it this time, you sneak."

Hooch said nothing, but I felt the mirthful withdrawal of her control until the energy around the broomstick was mine alone. Concentration manifested itself fiercely in my body and I went for it, leaning harshly to the left. What amounted was a jerky, but complete roll which then spiralled into a near perfect second. Heady with accomplishment, I pulled us out of the trick until we coasted along, level with the ground.

"Good girl!" Hooch exclaimed, a little startled I supposed by my actual completion of the trick sans Hoochish intervention.

"Thanks," I smirked smugly. "You thought I was going to veer into that goalpost, didn't you?"

"Of course not," she claimed indignantly, and I had to laugh.

"Which is why you nearly squeezed my guts out?"

"Oh, shut up," Hooch growled affectionately. "We've still got one more thing to go over before dinner, so quit making fun."

"I'm not making-" I began, but changed my mind when Xiomara huffed impatiently. "What are you on about with this other trick, then- if you wanted me to try that Wronski Feint thing we'll both wind up incredibly 'wronged' for sure-"

"Shush," Hooch chided. "I don't want to die today, either. We'll do something relatively simple, so just take us up in higher and for Merlin's sake- stop arguing and trust me!"

Effectively 'shushed', I did as I was told and then awaited further instruction.

"Right," Xiomara said. "I'm going to toss something into the air. I want you to wait for seven seconds, and then go after it. Alright?"

I nearly sighed with relief. This I could do for certain. "Yes, go ahead."

Hooch threw a small, gleaming object into the air and I dutifully counted to seven before tearing off after it. Several seconds later, I hovered breathlessly about a hundred feet over the pitch with a small silver ball clasped tightly in my hand.

"I should've waited a little longer," I said, "that was too easy."

"Never mind," Xiomara murmured "I wanted to make sure you caught it."

Frowning, I turned side-saddle until I looked at Xiomara. "Why?"

Xiomara smiled impishly at me. "Because if you hadn't, it would've really buggered up the moment."

And then it occurred to me that the pewter sphere I held in my palm was something special from Xiomara- it was for me. "What is it?" I asked, delightedly curious.

"Once to the right and twice to the left," she whispered somewhat mystically.

I squinted at her. "English Xio, I need it in english."

Xiomara rolled her eyes. "In your hands, love. Roll it once to the right, and twice to the left."

"Oh," I said a little sheepishly. "Right." Gently, I turned the orb in my smallish hands, once to the right and twice to left- just like I'd done in the air with Xiomara minutes before. Slowly, the orb began to glow with a low, cobalt light, sparks of silver remaining until once again the luminosity took over until the sphere disappeared entirely, leaving in my hands a small pendant on an intricate silver chain.

"Nifty charm," I exclaimed quietly.

"Well," Xiomara prompted a little anxiously. "Do you like it?"

I swallowed, not entirely sure what I should- or for that matter- was allowed to say.

"I do," I said finally, fingering the delicate chain, letting it dribble loosely through my fingers until the pendant caught in the fork there.

Xiomara's face seemed to fall a little when I didn't gush all over her beautiful gift.

Instantly guilty, I clasped her hand, which was cool from the high breeze. "Don't look like that," I fussed. "It's the most special, ridiculously wonderful thing anyone has every given me, and of course I love it, but-" I looked down at the stone which seemed to change from amber to garnet in my gaze, "-how am I supposed to get over you now, if I was before?"

Xiomara tilted her head at me. "Buggered if I know, darling," she murmured. "I may be much more unwilling to lose you than I've been letting on."

I didn't know quite what to say, or do- but being several hundred feet above the ground it wasn't likely I could ignore what she'd just said by running away from it. I could, though, take the broom back down to the ground and then at least if I cocked this up- as I had every other situation- I could bolt for the Great Hall and the censor my parents' presence would bring.

Decided on that, I leaned forwards and brought the broom hastily to the shelter of the broom shed. Rather huffily, Xiomara removed herself from the broom.

"You do have a knack for killing the moment, Mary," she muttered a little savagely.

Glaring coolly, I advanced upon her and possessively wound my hands around her neck and pressed my lips to hers. Moaning in delight and surprise, Xiomara quickly grabbed on to me and turned us so I was backed up against the wobbly wall of the old shed.

"You're terrible," she gasped, pulling away for air, though her hand ran through my cropped hair quite tenderly.

Grinning, I yanked her back by her robes until our noses almost touched. "What did you want me to do, you daft thing? Snog you in front of anyone who happened to glance out a window? I don't bloody well think-"

"Oh, shut up," Xio growled as she quite boldly ventured into my mouth with a soft, wet tongue. I sagged against the wall again, overcome by the possessive advance. As I swore amazedly to myself in my head, she broke off again and gazed at me with honey eyes. My opportunity.

"You look gorgeous today," I whispered against her neck, kissing her there lightly.

She nuzzled her face against mine, breathing heavily. "So do you."

"-_fuck-" _I murmured, too aroused for etiquette, and moved back to her mouth as my hands slid down her chest and over her stomach to rest on the curve of her hips. Xio's hands wandered, too, and I mewled uncontrollably as the tips of her fingers traced my nipples through the thin fabric of my robes.

As my arching back pushed my breasts into her hands, something creaked audibly and a smattering of dust drifted down onto our twined bodies.

"Hush," I hissed quickly, just soon enough to hear someone swearing under their breath about sticky doors and shitty old sheds. Xiomara heard it too, and with amazing agility and calm managed to simultaneously remove my hand from inside her robes, straighten mine, grab a broom off the shelf and begin in the middle of a conversation about the exact balancing point of the broom in the crux of a Frenetikus Flail- all just before the offending person entered the shed.

"-and make sure to keep the tail of the broom level in the Flail, Miss Briston, or you're liable to spin out and wind up with a broken neck," Hooch finished as my _father_, of all people, entered the shed.

"Right, Madam Hooch," I agreed dutifully, just before turning towards my father with a decidedly innocent smile in place. "Hi there Dad."

"Hello kiddo-" he smiled, thankfully oblivious, "nearly done?"

"Nearly," Xiomara agreed with mock exhaustion, smirking at my dad, who grinned knowingly back. "I've got one more bit of advice for Mary and then we'll be up to the castle."

"Righto," my dad nodded, giving a goofy little wave before he started the march back across the pitch. Xiomara watched him through the doorway until he was out of earshot again. When her shoulders sagged as the tension left them, I let out the breath I'd been holding on to.

"Bloody _fuck_," I gasped as I collapsed against the wall in indescribable relief.

"Too right," Xiomara muttered as she massaged the bridge of her nose. "That was too close."

Scared out of arousal, we regarded one another with somewhat blank faces. I was too guilty to say anything, and Xiomara wore a completely unreadable expression. Were it not for the impending return of my father should we fail to appear most promptly at dinner, I think Xiomara and I may have stood staring at one another for altogether too lengthy an amount of time- a thoroughly imprudent course of action considering that we had only narrowly avoided being caught holding bits of each other that would be considered entirely inappropriate by not only my father, but Dumbledore and the Ministry as well.

"We'd better get to dinner," Hooch said flatly, without looking at me.

"Ok-ay," I agreed warily. "Was that last piece of advice just a ploy to lose my dad, or did you have something else you wanted to say- _or_," I added hopefully, "do?"

Xiomara finally looked over to my fairly pleading eyes with a steeled expression. "What I want to do, Mary, is go to dinner. As for that last piece of advice, this is it. You forget about me, I'll forget about you- and in each of us forgetting about the other, we'll move on from this impossibility as expediently as possible."

I think I nearly bit the end of my tongue off to keep from lashing out at her, and I know that my fingernails bit eight perfect half-moons into the clammy palms of my hands as my mind tried to deal with the fact that I was being quite frigidly ditched. If I'd been thinking more clearly, I might have realised that Xiomara was purposefully being a right hag to piss me off so I'd be able to move on from her- however, I didn't.

With clenched teeth, I moved towards her quite slowly, letting my hand slide into my pocket where the pendant she had given me bumped almost painfully against my leg. Standing in front of her, I forced myself to meet her eyes- hoping maybe that I'd see some warmth there that would change my mind.

Apparently not.

"Xiomara," I began softly as I took her hand.

"Mary-" she warned, thinking perhaps that I was going to plea with her. I wasn't.

With resignation, I let the warmed silver cascade again out of my hand, into hers. "Let's eat."


End file.
